Rebirth
by Ceresi
Summary: A rebellious Mokuba, a painful long-distance relationship, and someone trying to take out Seto -- these things an epic make. SetoJoey established relationship, Battle City AU, plotty.
1. Default Chapter

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Rebirth  
by Ceresi

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Rating: R

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Summary: A rebellious Mokuba, a painful long-distance relationship, and someone trying to take out Seto -- these things an epic make. Seto/Joey established relationship, Battle City AU, plotty.

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Original Characters: The maid and the boyfriend. I am neither an old woman nor a teenage boy. Fear not, they have not contracted Mary-Suism.

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Ships: Seto/Joey, Mokuba/OMC.

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Spoilers: Up to the Battle City AU.

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Disclaimer: Pinky: What are we going to do tonight, Brain? Brain: Tonight, we are going to help Ceresi steal Yugioh, for she does not own it already and desires it greatly! Mwahahahahahahahaha!

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Author's Note: I realize that there are varying standards as to what people do with names, language, food, geography, and culture in this fandom. For names, I use the names from the U.S. dub (except for Ryou, because no one's bothered to give the guy a full name). For language, I use American English. Food and culture -- well, I'm an American girl. They eat American food, 'cause that's all I know. At least, all I know well enough to include intelligently in a fic.

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WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

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ABOUT: (Some of this can be inferred from the story, but it's not stated outright. Some of it is world-building, background info. that's not particularly important. If missing that doesn't bother you, skip on to the Acknowledgements.)

This fic is set five years after the end of the Battle City arc (yes, it's AU). KaibaCorp has continued to expand, and now owns exclusive rights to Duel Monsters, as well as ties to every major gaming corporation in the world. Seto is a rich, rich, well-known, powerful man. Mokuba is fifteen and refreshingly normal.

Joey and Yugi are attending college together in America. Yami Yugi's still hangin' around. Yami Bakura's not.

After Seto got the rights to DM, he teamed up with the Yugi-tachi and looked into the game's Egyptian roots. In the process, Yami was able to recover a great deal of information about his magic, and discovered a hidden circuit of underground temples and dueling areans. That's where Ryou and Mai come in -- they're working in Egypt, Ryou as an archeologist, and Mai as manager of the dig site and go-between for Ryou, the Egyptian government, and Kaiba Corp. Seto is heavily invested in the Egyptian dig, and, via Mai, manages what goes on and where artifacts are sent. The magical nature of some of the uncovered artifacts is kept between Mai, Ryou, Seto, and Yugi.

The others are . . . around. Duke doesn't play a part in this fic (sorry, fangals), and neither do the Ishtars or Serenity. There's a sequal/companion fic to this one in the works, which will include more of the Egypt-tachi and Yugi. There's also a prequal, half-done, on my hard drive. Yeah. It's one of those fics.

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Acknowledgements: Thanks a ton to Jordan, who betaed an early draft of this baby, got me hooked on Seto/Joey, got me re-hooked on Yugioh, and is in general a cute, bouncy, t00b. Also, may I take this moment to dis-Acknowledge FF.net, which is just a bitch?

***

"Hey, Seto, I'm going out!"

Seto glanced up from his papers, saw a Mokuba-blur tear past the study to his room. There came a thump as he tripped. Long, baggy pants were in fashion -- it happened all the time, lately.

"Are you all right?"

A grunt. "Ow."

Smirking, Seto went back to his work. Another boring contract . . . "Who are you going with?"

"Just, um, Daisuke."

Seto scowled at a certain paragraph. Like Hell he was going to agree to that! Those bastards . . . 

Mokuba stopped outside of his study. "Seto?"

Seto looked up. "Hm?"

A small smile. "I'll be home in a few hours."

He returned to his work, frowning. "Have fun."

"Thanks."

Daisuke was waiting in the hall, plainly eavesdropping. "Weren't you guys closer than that, once?" he asked quietly as they left. Mokuba waved briefly to one of the servants. "I mean . . . none of my business."

"Nah, it's all right." Mokuba shrugged, mouth pulled into a tight frown, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "We don't talk much anymore, not lately. What are we seeing again, something with blood and guts?"

"Yeah, try not to scream this time."

"Hey, I only did that _once." _ Mokuba shoved him lightly, grinning. "Besides, you put ice down my shirt!"

Daisuke gave him a forbidding look and slung an arm over his shoulders. "Now, it's not good to blame your flaws on others," he chided. "The first step is admitting that you have a problem."

"I have a problem alright, his name is Daisuke . . ."

~

"Seto Kaiba speaking."

"Kaiba?"

Seto blinked, pushed away from his desk and stood quickly. "Valentine?" When he passed the window, he glimpsed Mokuba and Daisuke walking down the sidewalk. The sight of Daisuke's arm around his little brother was more annoying than amusing.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Seto cocked an eyebrow at his faint reflection. She sounded angry. He was glad she was in Egypt, then -- she was the only employee that he could never quite intimidate, and she liked to throw things.

"I don't play," Seto reminded her coldly. "What happened?"

"There's been an -- attack. Ryou's really . . . ." She sighed suddenly, anger replacing itself with lassitude. "Hang on."

She didn't cover the phone as the doctor spoke with her. Seto listened attentively to the rundown of Ryou's injuries, wincing occasionally. _Fractured skull, five broken ribs, internal bleeding, major surface damage to his left hip and leg, a thrice-broken arm and an almost shattered femur. What the hell happened to him, an explosion?_

When the doctor paused, he said, "Valentine?"

"Here."

"Accelerated Healing. He won't survive without it." When Mai was silent, he ordered, "Do it."

She did. "Ryou's not gonna be able to pay for that," she reminded him tensely. He could hear the doctor calling out orders in the background.

"I'm paying for it. Tell me about the attack."

He heard her sigh again, could envision her pushing her wild mane of her back from her face. "Give me a minute."

He did, lingering by the window (Mokuba had passed from view), as she spoke with doctors, Egyptian police, and other injured researchers. He could hear the sound of weeping in the distance, and gathered that someone must have passed recently. Or several someones.

When Mai finally returned her attention to him, he was seriously beginning to worry.

"I wasn't there for it. I was needed in Cairo for a meeting." He could hear the weariness in her voice. He hadn't known that Mai _could_ be weary, but then, she and Ryou were close. "I didn't know anything had happened until I landed an hour ago. Kaiba, it was a bomb."

He felt cold. Someone had used a bomb on his people. The _bastards_. Who would dare?

"What have the police found?"

"Nothing yet. Bombs destroy evidence." She paused, said something to a doctor, and continued. "It was in the camp itself, away from the temples and dig sites. A few artifacts were lost. Three people have died from sustained injuries and the camp has been almost entirely destroyed."

"No one died during the explosion?"

"We don't know." Mai's voice was dull. "There's a pile of rubble. Five people are missing, and the numbers are expected to go up. We have yet to find a reliable roll call system."

Seto was silent for a moment, processing the information. When he spoke, it wasn't about the camp or the missing people. "Ryou will heal?"

"With Accelerated Healing, yes." Mai sounded frustrated suddenly. Seto smirked. "Or so the doctors say. It's going to be quite a bill, even for you, Kaiba. You'd better not try to weasel your way out of it."

"I'm hurt," Seto said sarcastically, amused with the threat. "Valentine, find a computer."

"A computer? What am I going to do with it, dance? I don't know anything about computers."

"I'll tell you what to do. Just find one."

She sighed, but he heard her asking for one. They were both getting annoyed by the time she remembered that Ryou had a laptop -- ten minutes later, she was on it, and the background noise had vanished.

"You're in Ryou's room," Seto guessed.

"Yep," she said quietly. "He's sleeping."

"Hmm." Seto thought a moment. "Wake him up."

"He's _injured_, Kaiba, dear lord, he just nearly died! He's barely even _stable._ He's only woken up long enough to vomit blood -- I am not waking him up. And you can stop trying to glare at me, I'm on the other side of the equator."

Seto stopped scowling out the window. How had she known? "Has the Accelerated Healing started?" He thought he could the machine in the background; it was hard to tell. And all but the oldest models were silent.

"No," Mai said.

Seto rolled his eyes. "You're lying," he said coldly. Silence. "Fine. You're online?"

"Yes."

  
Seto directed her into the company database, giving her his access codes when prompted. He scribbled a note to change them later -- he trusted Mai (and would never admit it), but he was worried that the line was tapped.

"Now, hack into the second cluster -- there should be a command prompt. Type the following. . . ." Seto dictated as Mai scrambled to keep up. There was a muttered curse when her nail broke and he stifled a snicker. "Has a new desktop shell opened?"

Mai hissed another curse. "A _what?_"

Seto rolled his eyes. "Has the screen changed."

"Yes."

"Use the menu bar." Seto paced as he spoke. "Beneath the heading Visual Feeds it should have a series of options, coordinates."

"Yes, I've found them. Some of them are grayed out . . . ."

"Hmm. Those must be deactivated cameras."

"Cameras." There was pause. He could hear her temper starting to flare; what a familiar sound. "Cameras from the research camp? Kaiba, how many cameras were there? And _where_ were they?"

"Don't worry," Seto said, amused. "They were only in the communications, labs, storage, and leisure areas. Your virtue is safely intact."

"The bomb was detonated in a leisure area," Mai murmured suddenly.

"Read off the options on the menu," Seto instructed. "I'll tell you the approximate location of each room, and you tell me if it was a leisure area or a hallway leading to. Don't skip any. Got it?" Mai got it. "Start now."

They were three-fourths of the way through the list when Mai found the right camera. As she watched the tape, she was silent -- Seto sat in his chair briefly and then stood again, pacing restlessly. He was tempted to hack into the dbase alongside Mai, but he doubted the servers would support a feed to Egypt. This business of relying on others was irritating.

"Oh God," she murmured at last. "There were three people in the room with him . . . with the guy with the bomb . . . . I knew them. Their families are just downstairs, waiting for news. Jesus."

"Describe him," Seto ordered, filing away the end of her statement for later reference.

Her voice was cutting. "Don't you care? They probably died because of _you_, Kaiba, or something you did."

"If I didn't care, would I be here, talking to you when I should be sleeping?" Mai didn't reply, but it sounded like a guilty silence. _Good. Don't tell me how to look after about my employees, Valentine._ "Tell me."

She obeyed. Seto kicked his chair aside as he listened -- _brown hair, dark eyes, short, round, glasses, badly dressed, a bomb strapped to him . . . ._

"He looks deranged," Mai said faintly. She was obviously sickened by the suicide bomber. "He's filthy. His eyes . . . don't stay on anything long, he's obviously . . . ugh, soiled himself. There are cuts all over his arms. He's screaming at the people in the room. I don't think he has a gun, they were just trying to calm him down . . ." She took a deep breath.

Seto was trying to place the oddly familiar description. Mai was silent for a moment, checking on Ryou, he guessed, judging by the muffled murmurs he was catching. He waited for her to finish fawning over the unconscious man and then asked, "Is he limping?"

"What? Oh, yeah."

It clicked. "Donald Eckert."

He could hear Mai perk up. "You knew him? Who was he?"

Seto was prepared to tell her, but Ryou beat him to it. "A former archaeologist." Mai gave a little squeak to see him awake, but he continued. "He lost his job when I was hired. You're talking to Kaiba, aren't you?"

"You should be lying down!"

"Enough," Seto interrupted. "Put him on the phone."

Annoyed, Mai did so.

Seto left a series of instructions with Ryou -- mostly ways to enforce security and keep such a thing from happening again. He was disturbed to discover that this was the second attempt on Ryou's life, although the first hadn't been work related.

When he finally hung up, he was left deeply unsettled. Eckert hadn't the mental capability to build a bomb and get past security, if Mai's description was anything to go by. Someone had _used_ a former employee to attack his people.

Their loyalty to him had been repaid with their blood, and for some, with their lives. They hadn't deserved it. They hadn't deserved it at all.

His phone clattered onto his desk. He glanced at the clock as he passed it and then stopped -- it was going on ten-thirty. His conversation with Mai had lasted for three hours.

He rang security. "Has my brother come back yet?" he asked. Mokuba usually would have dropped by his study, since his room was just down the hall, but . . .

"No, sir."

Annoyed, Seto hung up. He was half an hour past curfew.

He fought back an unreasonable surge of paranoia. Mokuba would be back soon; even when he missed curfew, he was never _too _late.

Seto went to the front door to wait.


	2. Chapter Two

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Rebirth  
by Ceresi

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Rating: R

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WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**A/N:** Shoutouts to metalsilverarmor23, rayemars, angel_soul03, ashes, and Kato, who commented. Ya'll rock.

**Want more notes?** See Chapter One

***

By the time that Mokuba finally drug himself home, it was quite dark. He caught his reflection in one of Seto's silver-blue cars and scowled threateningly. His hair was spiky and weird from the rain, or at least, spikier and weirder than normal. His clothes were rumpled, not on quite right -- anyone with half a brain would realize he'd been fooling around. And it was almost midnight.

Seto was gonna kill him.

His cell phone gave a little beep. Mokuba dug it out of his pocket and turned on the light, reading Daisuke's text message aloud to himself. "Guess what I'm doing right now . . ." He rolled his eyes.

__

That'll make you go blind, you know.

Another beep. "That would be a shame."

__

Besides, you're supposed to wait till I'm there.

"Well, I'm remembering when you . . ." Mokuba smirked, flushing. It sounded so much _dirtier_ when it was written down. He read the rest of the message silently, trying not to giggle. 

He had to stop reading and hold onto the phone with one hand as he climbed the gate. He swore as his sleeve caught and the phone clattered to the pavement -- he had to focus to free himself. When he finally managed to jump down (and roll a few feet when he tripped -- those _damn pants_) he searched the ground for it. _It fell to my left, didn't it? So it should be . . . ._

Right where his brother's shoes were.

Mokuba jerked his head up. "Seto!"

Seto cocked an eyebrow. This was what Mokuba affectionately called the Silence of Death. Seto was the only person Mokuba knew who could make quiet so threatening -- at worst, Mokuba was in for a grounding and a lecture, but he was still intimidated as hell.

Finally, Seto spoke. "It's midnight, you realize."

"Maybe your watch is fast," Mokuba tried feebly. "I could have sworn it was only ten . . ."

"_Two hours _fast?"

"Stranger things have happened."

Unamused, Seto said, "Mokuba, you're two hours past curfew."

Mokuba contritely turned his eyes downwards. "I'm sorry," he said. Unable to help himself, he peeked. Seto wasn't impressed.

He looked back down. "We were playing video games," he lied. "I was winning! Aw, come on, Seto! Daisuke's my rival as much as Yugi was yours. Like _you_ never got a little distracted when you were beating him."

"Funny that you should bring that up," Seto said dryly. "Because I only beat him once. And I wasn't 'distracted' at all."

Mokuba flushed. Okay, so, rumpled clothes. Of _course_ Seto would figure it out.

"That doesn't matter," Seto continued firmly. "You're two hours late either way. So, you'll be grounded for two months."

"Two months!"

Seto gave him his coldest look, the one he was fond of using on business partners who thought they could double-cross him. Mokuba just gaped. Two months?! Had anyone ever been grounded for two months? That was inhumane! Unreal! 

Seto uncrossed his arms and gestured towards the door. "Go to bed," he ordered.

Mokuba forced himself to stop staring. Surely Seto would be more reasonable in the morning. And if not . . . well, Mokuba was resourceful. He'd just have to be careful about not getting caught. In fact, if he looked at it the right way, it was nothing more than a challenge.

"All right," he grumped, looking around at the ground. "Where's my phone? I dropped it."

Seto held it up. "I'll keep ahold of it," he said. "You won't be using it."

Mokuba paled at the threat -- and then reddened as he remembered the last message he'd been sent. "Uh, Seto, that's kind of cruel . . ."

"Good."

"But . . ."

With an expression that would book no argument, Seto switched off the phone and pocketed it, all without glancing at it. Mokuba nearly fell over with relief.

"Go." Seto ordered.

Mokuba scowled at him and ran inside.

  
Seto watched him dart off, then glanced at his pocket with a dark expression. Maybe two months had been a little harsh. But the message on that thing when he picked it up . . . ! Mokuba was only fifteen!

__

Two months, he vowed to himself. _And this way, I don't have to worry about an attack on his life._

***

The maid set a plate of eggs in front of the youngest Kaiba as he sat. "How are you this morning, Mokuba?"

Mokuba gave an unhappy grunt. "Mrs. Kamazaki, do you know if anything happened last night to make my brother angry?"

She blinked, wiping her hands on her apron. "Hm. Well . . ." She fixed him with a kind, if stern, eye. "I hear that you came tromping in three hours past curfew, young man. That would probably do it."

Mokuba began building an egg tower. "I was only two hours late. And I think he was in a bad mood before that, though."

"Probably business, my dear." She shrugged at his curious glance. "You'll have to ask him. All I know is what the newspapers tell me."

"What _do_ they tell you?"

"Rumors about goings-on in Egypt." This obviously didn't ring a bell with Mokuba. He looked at her quizzically, but she only shrugged and said, "Nothing worth repeating." To distract him, she forked over some bacon -- Mokuba tore into it greedily and she chuckled. "Slow down, youngster, slow down, it's not going anywhere."

"Mmph not an ungster," Mokuba mumbled. At her austere frown, he crammed in some eggs. " 'ittle kids cont eaf so uch. Shee?" He grinned messily and she swatted at him with her towel.

About ten minutes later -- shortly after Mokuba finally managed to swallow that first mouthful -- Seto entered the dining room. He was already dressed for work, in a white dress shirt and black slacks, his black trench coat thrown over his arm.

Mokuba barely glanced up, already wondering how to get his phone back. Halfway through the meal, Mokuba decided to go with the blunt approach. "Hey, Seto?"

Seto looked up from where he was pushing food around his plate. "Yes?"

"Can I have my phone back?"

Seto gave him a look.

"Aw, come on, big brother. That's mean."

"Glad to know it's working, then."

Mrs.Kamazaki glanced at him reproachfully even as she gave him more bacon. "If you break the rules, you get in trouble. You should be happy that you have your brother to look out for you."

"I agree," Seto said. Under Mrs. Kamazaki's reproachful eye, he took a quick bite of toast.

__

I'm just worried about what will happen if Seto turns the phone on and Daisuke texts him.

"You _did_ break curfew," Mrs. Kamazaki added. "I think a little punishment is in order."

"Absolutely brilliant." Seto tossed the rest of his toast in the trash can when she wasn't watching.

"Traitor," Mokuba groused at the maid. "You were on my side a few minutes ago."

She gave him a haughty look and poured a glass of orange juice. "Now drink this up, and go on to school."

Seto added, without looking up, "Come right home. If you don't, a bodyguard will accompany you to your classes tomorrow."

Mokuba scowled, irritated that Seto thought he was so stupid. "Tomorrow's _Saturday_."

"Yes," Seto deadpanned. "You'll be lonely at school all by yourself. Consider that incitement."

Mokuba narrowly avoided what Daisuke called flouncing as he left the room. Narrowly.


	3. Chapter Three

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Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**A/N:** Shoutouts to metalsilverarmor23, rayemars, angel_soul03, ashes, and Kato, who commented. Ya'll rock.

**Want more notes?** See Chapter One

***

"Hello?"

"It's me."

Seto dropped his paperwork and swiveled in his chair. He prepared himself for bad news. "What happened?"

"Ryou was attacked again." There was pause. Mai added, "It didn't happen when he was at work. He ah, didn't want me to tell you."

"Wise of him," Seto observed acidly, even as he started to worry. Was Ryou the target of someone else's plans? He didn't want to fire the guy, but he couldn't leave his people in danger. "If that's what he wants, why are you wasting my time?"

"I'm telling you about it because I _thought _that you would want to know." There was sigh. "And I want you to help protect him."

"It would be impressive if I managed to protect him from a thousand miles away," Seto said. "I assume you mean 'assign him a bodyguard'?"

"Just do something before I come home one day and find him dead!"

Seto winced a little. "Fine," he said. "I'll send one of my bodyguards." He swiveled in his chair and tapped something on his laptop. "Someone named Kevin."

"Kevin?" Mai sounded wary. "Why a Kevin? Why not someone named . . . Jennifer, or Allison?"

Seto rolled his eyes. "Does it matter? He knows how to fight and he'll be under orders to get along with both of you. That's enough."

"Right," Mai said wryly after a pause. "You just love to make things difficult for me, don't you, Kaiba?"

"I have no idea of what you're talking about," Seto said honestly. The phone gave a beep. "I have another call. Are you finished?"

"Yessir," Mai said briskly. "Signing out, sir. Thank you for your time, sir. Have a nice day, sir."

Seto smirked and hung up.

~

"I think Harry's problem," a girl was saying, "is that he lacks any sort of paternal support."

"He has Sirius!" someone said hotly.

A long silence. Twenty-five plus pairs of eyes inspected the chalkboard, on which the teacher had scrawled, _No spoilers allowed!_

"Well, yes," the girl said cautiously. "But, I mean, um, yeah."

"He has plenty of paternal support," Daisuke argued, ignoring the kid in the back. "Well, not paternal, but -- just friends and family. There's Ron, and Hermione, Dumbledore, McGonagall, all of the Weasely's . . ."

"It's not the same," the girl said stubbornly. "Friends are nice, but they aren't _parents."_

"Ron's more than his friend," a boy behind Mokuba said. "They're like brothers."

The girl looked exasperated. "And yes, brothers are nice, but they aren't parents, either." When everyone looked skeptical, she straightened, taking on a know-it-all-tone. "Statistics have proven it. Children who grow up without parents, no matter how much support they receive from foster parents, siblings, or friends, are more inclined to rebellion, violence, petty crimes, and promiscuity than other children."

Daisuke rolled his eyes. "_What?"_

"It's true," the girl insisted, leaning forward. "Psychologists think that it's an innate ability of a child to recognize their parents, and to tell the difference between them and a stranger. Even if they have a loving foster family -- and most of them _don't_ -- the lack of biological paternal support wears at their subconscious until they _have_ to lash out, even if they don't believe or understand why."

"That's ridiculous," Daisuke snapped. "You're making that up."

Mokuba frowned. Just because Daisuke was sore over practically losing the debate didn't mean he was allowed to lash out like that.

"I am not!"

"You make stuff up all the time! You know you do. I can name a dozen times when you've lied just to sound smart." Daisuke scoffed when she glared and leaned back in his seat, obviously annoyed. A few people nodded agreement.

"That's enough," the teacher said mildly. "I think we're done now. So, judges." She smiled at Mokuba and two girls, all seated at the front of the room. "Who do you think won?"

The first girl chose Daisuke, the second, the Hermione-wannabe. Everyone looked at Mokuba.

He didn't really believe what the girl had said. Not _really. _Daisuke was right: he knew it in his gut. Seto had been as good to him as a father, even better. He'd done so much to protect him and look after him and . . . .

"Remember, you have to vote about whether or not you were convinced," the teacher said.

Horribly guilty, Mokuba voted for Daisuke.

The class ended there. He knew everyone thought that he'd only voted for Daisuke because they were friends -- he could see it in their smirks. And he definitely overheard the outspoken girl lean over to her friend and mutter, "What would _he _know about it, anyway?"


	4. Chapter Four

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**Want more notes? See Chapter One.**

***

"Mr. Kaiba?"

Seto pushed the drawer of his file cabinet closed and looked at his assistant. "What?"

"There's someone to see you, sir."

"I'm busy." Seto rifled through the folder he held, searching for a paper.

"He says it's important."

"I'm sure he does." Seto caught the worried expression on the woman's face and added, "Tell him to leave or you'll call security. I don't want to be harassed by some idiot. If it's important, he can make an appointment or whine to someone else."

"Yes, sir." She shut the door behind her.

Exasperated, Seto threw the manila folder he'd been carrying onto his desk. As he returned to get another, the view caught his eye. He let himself space for a few minutes, just watching.

He didn't go to his office in the city often, preferring to stay at the mansion where Mokuba could always reach him. And when he did come in, it was usually for a meeting, and he had no time to look out windows.

But the skyline was beautiful, he admitted to himself. Joey always told him it was one of the things he missed about the city.

Of course, Joey was a romantic idiot.

Smirking, Seto turned back to the open drawer. What had he filed his contract with the financial department under? The fact was buried under a massive pile of useless knowledge. Seto's forte was inventing, not paperwork. He was wasting himself here, and he knew it, but someone had to --

The sound of gunfire from the outer room startled him. His head flew up and he stared, registering vaguely that yes, someone was screaming.

He hit the ground behind his desk just before the door begin to splinter under a rain of bullets. Seto cursed softly. The bodyguards? The secretary? Probably dead by this point. And he didn't have a weapon --

The gunfire stopped. The shattered door was kicked out of the way, and then more shots were fired. Seto managed a tight grin as he heard a series of pings -- it had seemed idiotic to make a bulletproof desk, but Mokuba and Joey had insisted, pointing out that with his track record, he'd need it. He really must remember to thank them.

Again, there was a pause in the gun fire. Seto maneuvered under the desk until he was optimally positioned, ready for his attacker no matter which way he came from, even above. He might not have a weapon, but he had years of training in the martial arts. And he was smarter than any idiot with a gun.

There came a thump from behind him. Seto's eyebrows rose. So the gun had been dropped? _Out of bullets,_ his inner voice suggested. How inexpertly planned.

It was almost an insult. He listened as heavy footsteps came closer, eyes narrowing at the hoarse breathing, and the occasional grunt_. Injured. So the bodyguards at least attempted to do their jobs._

There was a thud as the man kicked the desk. "Come out," he growled. "Coward."

Seto said nothing, still thinking.

"The Great Seto Kaiba, hiding under a desk? Thought you were better than that. More _powerful._" He kicked the desk again, harder. His next command was a roar. "COME ON!"

Seto didn't move, chillingly reminded of Mai's account. A pair of legs appeared suddenly to his left -- he grabbed an ankle and pulled, hand coming up to block the blow aimed at his face, the man fell --

Nothing could have blocked the gun in his other hand. Seto heard it go off but he was already moving, grabbing his wrist, throwing the weapon away. He left his cover and jerked the man up, slammed him into the wall.

And when his attacker still had the strength to sputter curses, he did it again. And again.

Finally, he was unconscious, and Seto could step away and breathe. His lungs ached and he was shaking all over. _Shock._ _It's been a while since I fought at all, let alone for my life._

The room swayed. Seto took a breath and tried to steady himself.

"Kaiba! What --"

Seto recognized the voice. It took him a moment to place it, however, and by then it's owner was pulling him away from his unconscious attacker.

Tristan Taylor stared at him with wide eyes. "What happened?"

Seto wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His side burned like hell. "Attack," he said succinctly. "What are you doing here?"

Tristan blinked a few times, gestured over his shoulder. "I was next door applying for a job, heard the gunshots -- Christ, it's carnage in the outer room, blood everywhere. I think someone called the police --"

"Good," Seto said. He pushed Tristan's hands off his shoulders. "Meet them at the doors and lead them in here. I need to see if anyone's still alive."

"Kaiba -- Kaiba, stop."

Seto did, irritated. "What?"

"You shouldn't be moving around," Tristan said. When Seto merely looked at him blankly, he added, "Man, you're bleeding."

Startled, Seto looked down.

He _was_ bleeding. Profusely. His shirt was drenched, from the ragged hole below his ribs to his shirt cuffs. He glanced at the carpet and saw giant red splotches.

His head, which had been perfectly fine a moment ago, started spinning. Tristan was there again, holding him up. "Just sit down," he said, guiding Seto to a chair, "It's all right, man. The police are on their way."

For once in his life, Seto listened to someone else. It was the first time in almost ten years that he'd been injured. He'd forgotten how much it hurt.

"Who is that guy?" Tristan was asking, mostly to hear the sound of his own voice. "D'you know who he is -- he, he looks almost familiar, like I've seen him before. I don't --" He shook himself. "Weird."

~

"Taichi Soichiro." The officer tossed a handful of papers onto the desk in front of Seto. "That's his name."

Tristan snapped his fingers. "One of the Big Five? The one who stole my body?" The officer stared at him.

"One of their sons," Seto said impassively. He lifted the papers and flipped through them. "His injuries?"

"Non-fatal, although it'll take a long time for him to recover." The officer gave Seto a look somewhere between respect and disgust. "He's got a concussion."

There was a long silence as Seto continued his perusal of the papers -- finally he threw them back to the officer with an expression of disinterest. "Anything else?"

"His family might decide to press charges." A second officer -- no, the chief, Seto corrected himself with a glance at his badge -- came forward. Unlike the first officer, he bore a clear look of contempt.

"Against me," Seto said coolly.

"His injuries were uncalled for," the chief snapped. "He was bleeding heavily and barely armed. Given your amount of training, you could have disarmed him as easily as you slammed his head into the wall."

Seto met the chief's eyes squarely. "He tried to kill me," he reminded icily. "And, might I remind you, nearly succeeded. I was acting in self-defense."

"Your actions were an exercise in brutality," the chief retorted. He looked at Tristan. "And I'm sure that testimony from a witness will prove it."

Seto looked at Tristan as well; but Tristan's eyes were on the police chief. "Bud, all I saw Kaiba do was fight off an armed guy bigger than him -- while _wounded _and bleedin' like a geyser. That's self-defense to me, and a pretty good example of it, too."

The chief looked revolted, as if Tristan had betrayed him personally. Seto smirked at him. 

"Get out of my sight." The chief sat in his chair and lifted the papers Seto had tossed aside. "If his family presses charges, we'll contact you."

"Thanks ever so," Seto said, standing. His coat swept around his legs as he leaned forward, resting his hands on the chief's desk. "If the media receives any information about this attack -- any at all -- I will personally hold you, and the officers under your employment, responsible." His eyes were level and hard. _"Don't try me."_

He left quickly, Tristan a step behind.

Seto glanced back as they walked down the sidewalk. "Do you have a place to stay?"

Tristan looked embarrassed, shoving his hands into his jean jacket. He was wearing three other layers beneath it, probably all of the clothes he owned. "Yeah, I'm holed up in a hotel a few blocks away."

"Fine. Call me tomorrow." Seto stopped as a limo pulled up beside them. He turned so abruptly that Tristan almost crashed into him. "I'll get you a job."

Tristan's face colored. "I don't want your pity," he said.

"Good." Seto opened the door and got in. He glanced up at Tristan. "I don't have any, and certainly none for you." He smirked, and the door slammed.

Tristan watched the limo pull away, scowling. "How the hell does Joey put up with that?" he muttered.

A girl carrying a skateboard approached him, her friends clustered behind her and staring. "Hey, man, was that your friend? The guy in the limo?"

"Yeah, we're best buds," Tristan said sarcastically. He pushed past her. " 'Scuse me."


	5. Chapter Five

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**Author's Note:** I really am an idiot.  
  
So, there were supposed to be two chapters in the last update, but I, for some reason, skipped the third chapter and posted the fourth chapter twice.  
  
-_-  
  
To make up for it, I've posted the third chapter and the fifth and sixth chapters all at once. Hopefully everything will still show up right and I won't lose any of my (rarepreciousfew) reviews.  
  
So sorry to you all. *hits self repeatedly*

**Want more notes? See Chapter One.**

***

Seto looked up when he realized that Mokuba was sitting in the chair across of his desk. He had his knees pulled up, head tilted back with a lazy, sleepy expression. His hair -- shorter than it had ever been -- tumbled around his face. "Yes, Mokuba?"

Mokuba straightened and looked at him. His mouth was a firm, unhappy line. "I'm sorry."

Seto blinked. "For what?"

"For coming home late," Mokuba said. He looked down. "I know I said I wouldn't break curfew anymore. I broke my promise -- and I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry you."

"Promise me that you'll be careful then," Seto said quietly, concerned. Had Mokuba heard about the attack that morning somehow? He'd bribed the news stations and papers to keep it out, and Mokuba had no way of seeing the bandages wrapped around his middle . . . he couldn't have.

"I promise."

It was that simple. Seto narrowed his eyes, trying to understand, but he had the distinct impression that this wasn't something he could help with.

Mokuba left quietly, casting another look at his brother as the door shut. Something was obviously wrong.

  
Seto sat in uncomfortable silence, and then picked up the phone.

~

"I can't believe you're grounded for two months."

"He'll let up." Wary, Mokuba stuck his head out of the linen closet and searched the hallway. After his first grounding at thirteen, he 'lost' his cell phone so that if ever grounded again, he at least wouldn't be so alone. He sort of figured that Seto knew what he'd done (someone was paying the bill), but let him do it. The phone was probably tapped.

It was the sort of chess-match thinking that the two of them had gotten used to. Seto was a master duelist, after all. He had to spar mentally with someone, and those idiots at the office were about as challenging as white bread.

"You sure about that? What if he catches you right now?"

"Why would he come up to the fifth floor? It's completely deserted."

"Why would _you_ go up to the fifth floor, then? He'll wonder why you're up there when you go missing."

"That's why it's perfect," Mokuba said happily. "He'll never search for me here, he's much more likely to check outside first. And then I'll see him through the window!"

"Insane," Daisuke said weakly. He'd heard about the Kaiba dueling wit, but had yet to witness it for himself. "That's crazy, Mokuba."

"It's fun."

Daisuke laughed. "You'd say so, wouldn't you?" There was a brief lapse in the conversation. "So, um, anything up?"

Mokuba sighed. "Daisuke, I'm grounded. Absolutely nothing is up."

"That's, ah, _not_ what I --"

"I think Seto's looking for me," Mokuba lied quickly. If the phone was tapped . . . "I'll talk to you later?"

Daisuke sounded concerned and alarmed. "Yeah, all right. You okay, Mokuba?"

The question made him pause. He wasn't sure how to answer. Of course, Seto asked him the question every now and then, but things were mostly left unspoken between them. Sometimes his friends asked, and Yugi did have a way that made him really want to answer, but . . . .

"Yeah," he said, voice sounding funny. "I'm all right."

"Okay." Silence. "So, you'd better go, huh?"

Mokuba felt bad for lying. "Yeah. I'll talk to you."

"Bye."

~

"He's acting strange."

"Of course," Joey said, sounding amused. "_You_ weren't strange when _you_ were fifteen."

"I was a very normal fifteen-year-old."

"You were anti-social and headin' your own corporation, Seto. You don't get much stranger than that." His voice gentled. "Besides, you were lookin' after Mokuba then, too."

Coldly, Seto asked, "And by that you mean?"

Joey sighed. "You don't have much perspective," he said. "Make some time for 'im and let 'im talk. He'll probably tell ya himself, or you'll figure it out."

Seto grunted noncommittally.

Joey continued. "Mokuba's probably just got a girlfriend."

"Boyfriend," Seto corrected absently.

"Huh." There was a rustle as Joey adjusted the phone. His ear was probably falling asleep. "Guess it is hereditary."

"Shut it, Wheeler."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch."

Seto snorted. "I think I liked you more before you went to college."

"You just don't like that I'm smarter'n you are."

"Dream on, puppy."

"Hey!" Even after almost six years, he was still sensitive to the nickname. "Pull your punches, Kaiba."

"Who's the bitch now?"

Joey laughed, yawned. "You doin' all right without me to look after ya, Seto?"

"Like I need a flea-bitten mutt like you to look after me," Seto muttered, perhaps a touch bitter. His comfortable leather desk chair suddenly felt very confining.

"Hey now." Joey saw right through him. "No need to be nasty."

"Sure there is."

"I can fly out there whenever you need me," Joey murmured sleepily. "Ya know that, right? Just a phone call away."

Seto's throat caught. Joey was much better at this sort of thing than he was. Maybe it came with overly-dependent and affectionate younger sisters. Or with puppy-dog personalities.

"Yeah," Seto said quietly. "I know."

"Term'll be over in three days. I'll be on the first flight out of here, you know it."

The relief was so good it almost hurt, so good it felt like a punch in the gut. Seto couldn't wait. He closed his eyes and felt some of the tension bleed from him. "I know."

"And Mokuba's gonna be all right." Joey sounded amused. "Never thought I'd catch ya playin' the mother hen, Kaiba. It's interestin', I'll give you that."

"Wheeler, I'm warning you."

"I gotcha, more teasing, on the way." As Seto glowered -- Joey could probably hear him, even with an ocean between them -- Joey added quickly, "I do have to go. I love you."

Seto opened his mouth to reply, but Joey had already hung up. He _always_ did that. Of course, the easiest way to beat him at his little game was to say it first. So far, he was losing.


	6. Chapter Six

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**Want more notes? See Chapter One.**

***

Mokuba had never realized how _long_ dinner was. There was just so much food. And there was something sedate and calm about the entire meal, something that really demanded conversation.

Or maybe it was just that Mrs. Kamazaki wasn't there to fill the silences.

Seto was eating his spaghetti with a very distracted air. He caught Mokuba looking at him and floundered briefly, clearly searching for a topic of conversation.

Oddly embarrassed, Mokuba stared at his plate. "What did you do at school today?"

"Just school stuff," Mokuba said neutrally.

"Like what?"

"Uh, nothing." Seto gave him the look. "All right. We . . . talked about _Harry Potter_ during English."

  
Seto was amused. "I thought those books were Satanic."

"Oh, they are, only not." Mokuba ran his hands through his hair. "They're way too long. Each book is three books, and each of _those_ three books are three books. They're massive. It's like reading a dictionary."

"At least they're interesting."

"British schoolboys are not interesting," Mokuba said wryly. Well, all right, they were, but -- "What did you do at work today?"

  
Seto was entirely off-put by the question. He stared above Mokuba's head, clearly thinking hard. "Meetings. Paperwork. Absolutely nothing interesting."

"Something exciting _had_ to happen."

"You overestimate the business world," Seto said. "Excitement is never a given."

Mokuba frowned, shredding his garlic bread. "What about Duel Monsters?" he asked. The words felt funny on his tongue; how long had it been since they talked about Duel Monsters? "And your inventions. Don't you work with them anymore?"

Seto looked almost rueful. "When I have time."

"_Make_ time."

"You sound like the dog."

Mokuba was briefly confused, and then he laughed. "Well, that's two of us. I'll just call up Yugi, Mai, and Ryou, and between the five of us _maybe_ you'll listen . . ."

Seto cocked an eyebrow at him. He wasn't eating his spaghetti; Mokuba ought to chide him, but really, he was old enough to eat his own food.

"You won't be calling anyone," Seto reminded him. "You're grounded."

Mokuba frowned. "D'you have to have to rub it in?"

"Yes." Seto stood and started moving towards the kitchen. "How else can I relish my power if I don't rub it in?" He ruffled Mokuba's hair and set his plate on the kitchen counter.

Mokuba turned in his chair, propping his chin on his forearm and asking, "Are you going to go work?"

"For a little while." The door swung shut behind Seto; his hands fell automatically to his pockets as looked down at his younger brother with amusement. "Need something to do?"

Mokuba eyed him. "You look decidedly wicked. I'm thinking no."

Seto shrugged, face suddenly a hint too unreadable. "Suit yourself."

~

"You just have to be patient with him."

Daisuke sighed dramatically, his head resting in Mokuba's lap. "I don't think I can handle this."

Mokuba rolled his eyes. "Fine. _You_ think up a plan to convince Seto to let me off the hook, and I'll do whatever you want."

Daisuke was intrigued. "Anything I want?"

"Anything at all."

"God damn."

Mokuba was supposed to be in Calculus and Daisuke in the office, working as an aide. Instead, they were cuddled in their favorite hiding place, the sun beating down on them warmly. When he wasn't punching Daisuke for being a smart-ass, Mokuba's hand rested on his sun-warmed brown-and-blue hair -- when he wasn't punching Mokuba in turn, Daisuke played with the lapels of his jacket.

"You sound intrigued," Mokuba observed.

"Perhaps I am." Daisuke propped himself up on his elbows, his chin level with Mokuba's belly button. Brown eyes gleamed, quick and bright. "Now, to conjure a plan capable of defeating the scariest person on earth . . ."

A bit defensively, Mokuba said, "He's not _that_ bad."

"Oh, he is."

Mokuba gave him a firm little nudge with his knee. Sure, Seto was strict, and cold with people that he didn't know. But those idiots hadn't seen him over the years, always stubborn and protective, forever bearing the brunt of Mokuba's vulnerability.

"He's not," Mokuba said, a little commandingly. _Just like Seto,_ he thought later.

"Sure," Daisuke said, obviously a touch annoyed. "Whatever you say." There was an awkward silence as he pushed himself into a sitting position at Mokuba's side, and then he stood. "I need to get back to the office. Talk to you later."

Mokuba frowned. What was he supposed to do, then? He couldn't exactly waltz into class half an hour late.

"Fine," he said. Daisuke didn't look at him as he slung his book bag over his shoulder, or as he kicked his way through the brush and left.

Mokuba popped up a minute later, halfway hoping he could call Daisuke over again, but all he could see were the glass doors swinging shut.


	7. Chapter Seven

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**A/N:** Hugs and love to everyone who's reviewed -- I can't remember who I have and haven't thanked, so, from the top: rayemars, metalsilverarmor23, angel_soul03, ShadowzofChaos, Yume Takato, Jenniyah, Kaneda-Shotaro and Yami Tetsuo, Katsuki, Jargonelle, and Celeste1. 

**Want more notes? See Chapter One.**

***

Entirely uncomfortable, Tristan waited outside of Seto's office. He tried to avoid looking to his left, where a group of cleaners struggled to get blood out of the carpet, or his right, where a brand-new secretary sat, twitching occasionally. It probably paid well to be Seto Kaiba's assistant. He wondered if the woman found the money worth her life.

Finally, the door opened. He'd been expecting to see Seto, and was startled at the vision that greeted his eyes. "Mai?"

She was drop-dead gorgeous, as always, tricked out in black leather, sunglasses, and a deep tan. She looked over her glasses at him and pronounced his name like it was a tasty treat. "Tristan Taylor."

He gulped. Those eyes. "Hey."

"You're staring."

He held his hands up defensively. "Not my fault." _Blame the halter._

She laughed and grabbed his arm. "Get in here, you dolt. Kaiba says you need a job."

"Huh." Tristan shrugged as she cocked an eyebrow at him. He might need to accept Kaiba's charity, but he sure as hell wasn't going to admit it.

"I've been in Egypt, thanks for asking." She shut the door behind him. "I'm heading Kaiba's research into the underground temples that our Yugi uncovered."

Tristan grimaced at the memory. It had been two years ago, and he still hadn't recovered -- not from the sight of a spirit stepping out of Yugi's body, or the way the spirit casually levitated massive, bone-crushing rocks, gently elbowing Yugi and teasing him simultaneously.

"It's fascinating," Mai continued. "I can tell you think so."

Tristan was, in fact, staring at her hair. It had been bleached by the sun or something. "Yeah. I'm . . . fascinated."

"If the two of you are finished?"

Tristan looked past Mai, at the man standing by the window. "Sorry, Kaiba."

"Don't bother apologizing, he doesn't really care." Mai sat in the chair in front of Kaiba's desk. "So, what do you have planned for Tristan?"

"I'm going to let you inflict yourself on him for a year," Kaiba said dryly. "If he survives, I'll give him an award."

"That's cruel," Tristan said, before Mai could object. She turned a glare on him, then batted her eyes. Tristan grinned at her, turned back to Kaiba. "What are you really planning?"

"Help the research," Kaiba said. He crossed to his desk and sat in his chair, leaning back. Tristan noted that there were no chairs for _him _to sit in; he stayed near the door and tried not to twitch every time Kaiba moved.

"I'm not a researcher," Tristan protested. "In fact, I'm pretty horrible at anything like that."

"What are you good at?" Mai asked. She turned in her chair and rested her arm on the back, hair cascading around her pretty face and clever eyes.

"Nothing," Tristan said flatly.

"That's a lie," Kaiba said. "Here's the offer, take it or leave it. Accompany Mai to Egypt and work with her, and Ryou, to research the temples and their relevance to the Millennium Items and Duel Monsters."

"I don't know anything about Egypt," Tristan pointed out. "I barely know anything about Duel Monsters."

"You know magic," Kaiba said bluntly. Mai looked back and forth between them like she was watching a ping-pong match. "You know it well enough to know what it looks like, feels like, what it can and can't do."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tristan said.

"Magic," Mai reminded him. "You know, like Ryou's Ring?"

"Yes," he said impatiently. He fidgeted -- all of this standing was getting to his feet. "The problem is, of all the times he was being mind-controlled, I didn't realize it. When Yugi told me I dreamed a duel between the two of them, I believed him. I thought that Pegasus was cheating, that the Shadow Realm business was a clever trick, the works."

"Don't be an idiot," Kaiba snapped. He leaned forward, patience spent. "You know it well enough, and I need someone like you to keep an eye on Ryou."

"I'm not going to spy on him for you," Tristan snapped. "Get someone else to do your dirty work, Kaiba. Like Mai."

Mai glared at him. "Watch it, kid," she said. "I don't do anyone's dirty work, and I sure as hell don't spy on Ryou."

"Not spying," Kaiba corrected coldly. "Guarding. From his other half."

"Yugi sealed it away," Mai said tiredly. "Permanently." Clearly this was a conversation they'd had before.

"Nothing's permanent," Kaiba said dismissively. "Will you accept the offer, or will you get out, Taylor?"

There was nothing for it -- he needed a job, and this was the best offer he'd get. Too bad he hadn't listened to Tea and applied for college, not that he would have been accepted with his grades. Unlike Joey, he didn't have a genius billionaire boyfriend to coach him through high school.

Irritated and depressed, Tristan snapped, "Fine."

"Good." Kaiba gestured to Mai.

She stood with a roll of her eyes. "We're flying to Egypt tomorrow," she said. "I'll get you your ticket. Make sure you bring short sleeved shirts, and make sure your family knows that you'll be out of contact. Once you're in the dig site, no messages go in or out."

"What?" Tristan stared at her. "Why?"

"Security," Mai said wearily. She breezed past him. "Get some sleep tonight, Tristan. You'll hit the ground running tomorrow."

__

Great.

Kaiba gestured for him to follow Mai out. Tristan scowled and turned to go -- at the last second he looked back. "Have you talked to Joey lately?"

"Why?"

"Can you tell him I'm leaving?"

Kaiba narrowed his eyes at him. "Tell him yourself."

"We're not exactly on the best terms," Tristan said, flushing. It had been unjust of Serenity to involve her brother in their break-up a few weeks ago. Hopefully, he and Joey would probably be talking again soon -- assuming that Joey stopped referring to him as 'that bastard' and telling off Yugi and Tea for not doing the same.

"Then he won't miss you," Kaiba said. "Get out. I have important business to take care of."

Tristan rolled his eyes and left as the phone began to ring. He swallowed back an urge to advise the secretary to quit, and tried not to notice the broken windows or the skittish security guards. Damn, that man's life had to be unpleasant.


	8. Chapter Eight

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**Want more notes? See Chapter One.**

***

"How'd school go?"

"Boring," Mokuba said, gritting his teeth. He didn't want to think about Daisuke or their argument. Had it even been an argument? What were they arguing _about?_ Surely something that stupid couldn't be classified as an argument.

"How are your classes coming?"

"Normal," Mokuba said tightly. "Physics is boring, History is boring, Art and Literature and Programming are all boring . . ."

"How's Calculus?"

Mokuba paused.

Seto ate a few bites of chicken.

"Because I hear the class goes much better if you show up for it," Seto added when Mokuba said nothing. "Where were you?"

Mokuba started to stand. Seto set down his fork. "Sit back down. Where were you?"

"Nowhere," Mokuba lied, sitting back down. "In class."

"You know, I can tell when you're lying." Seto took a drink of water, still so completely calm that Mokuba wanted to shatter a plate on his head. "It's one of the useful techniques you pick up as a duelist."

"Call my teacher, then," Mokuba challenged.

"I can tell when you're bluffing, too." Seto set the glass of water down. "Besides, I don't need to. He called me when you weren't in class."

Mokuba stared at him, fiercely hating his composure. He finally found his voice, albeit an unusually tight and nasty one. "Ah. I guess you paid him off, too?"

Seto froze. His head lifted slowly, eyes frosty.

"And what," he said slowly, "is that supposed to mean?"

It was the first time that Mokuba had ever been treated to the Full Effect Seto Kaiba Death Glare. Daisuke had been right; it was frightening. Seto was a scary, scary man.

"Nothing," Mokuba said. He could feel his face warming, his fingers twitching as he gripped the edge of his seat. _Oh, damn_.

Seto was watching him intently. "No, you said it," he prompted calmly. "Explain it."

"I didn't mean it," Mokuba said quickly.

"I doubt that." There was a long stretch of quiet as Seto waited for Mokuba to speak, but he couldn't think of anything to say. And as the seconds ticked by, as the atmosphere grew even more strained, he began getting irritated all over again.

Finally he pushed himself to his feet. "If you want to fight with someone, call Joey," he snapped, and kicked the kitchen door open, tossing his plate onto the counter. He caught Mrs. Kamazaki's startled glance as she loaded the dishwasher and ignored it.

"I don't want to fight with someone," Seto said, with that unshakable chill. "I'm just wondering if you'll follow through with your insults or run away."

Mokuba gritted back his teeth to avoid snapping _fuck you._ He felt a rush of satisfaction, however, as he slammed the dining room door behind him.

~

"Hey." Mokuba relaxed into the linen closet at the sound of Daisuke's voice. "I wasn't sure if you'd call me."

"Well, I don't have anyone else to talk to," Mokuba said snappishly. "I got into a fight with Seto, thanks to you."

Daisuke rose to the challenge, snapping back, "What, did he magically overhear me saying he was scary?"

"No, he found out I was skipping class, moron."

"You had as much to do with that as I did!"

"Whatever." Irritated, Mokuba chewed the inside of his cheek. He heard Daisuke shifting on the other side of the phone and held his breath, wondering if this was about to erupt into a genuine shouting match.

"If you want to fight with someone, talk to your brother," he said instead, startling Mokuba with an echo of his own words. "I actually wanted to apologize."

Mokuba swallowed. "You don't have to apologize."

"Yeah, I do. I insulted your brother. I shouldn't have done that. I know that the two of you are really close . . ."

Was the phone tapped? Mokuba had no way of knowing. But he was willing to bet that it was.

"It's all right," Mokuba said. He narrowed his eyes at an imaginary Seto. "I don't care at all what you say about him."

~

**__**

"Mr. Kaiba, sir?"

Seto turned from his perusal of the security cameras. "What?"

The guard hesitated. "Is there a problem, sir?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes." Seto stood, kicking the chair out of his way and crossing to the tape archive. "I want to receive hourly updates on the mansion's security."

"Yes, sir."

"And I want to know if anyone goes in or out, I don't care what time of day it is."

"Yes, sir."

Seto paused, looking over the monitors, the tapes, searching for something to criticize. He found nothing -- the place was even free of dust. He wondered what it said about him that he was disappointed.

"Have there been any security breeches at all?" Seto asked.

"A few, sir."

  
Immediately, Seto rounded on him. "Why wasn't I notified immediately?"

"They were minor, sir." The poor guard was sweating. "By the time someone was sent to investigate, sir, they'd already left."

"They? How many? Who?"

"Only one, sir, and we don't know who." The guard locked his hands behind his back. "We've increased security in probed areas, but they never check the same place twice. It's as if they're looking for a weak spot in the defenses."

Seto rocked back on his heels, disturbed. He stared at the monitors for a minute, wondering . . .

"Make sure they don't find any," he ordered absently.

Relief was evident in the guard's voice. "Yes, sir."

Seto nodded once and left.


	9. Chapter Nine

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**Want more notes? See Chapter One.**

***

It took exactly twelve steps for Mokuba to go from the right wall to the left. It took almost fourteen from front to back.

Mokuba contemplated calling the mansion's architect, telling him that the bedroom he'd designed was defective. It wasn't square. Rooms were supposed to be square.

He sighed and flopped into bed. It was sad, how bored he was.

But he couldn't call Daisuke again, he'd been forced off the phone by his sister. And he couldn't go and talk to Seto.

So, he picked himself up out of bed and went down to the kitchen.

Mrs. Kamazaki was putting the dishes away. She caught sight of him and lifted an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"

"It's only nine," he said, sitting on one of the bar stools in front of the counter. The room smelled like chicken; Mokuba looked around hungrily to see if some was left, but there was none in sight.

"You should get to bed early," Mrs. Kamazaki chided. "That way you'll be nice and rested for school tomorrow."

"Yeah, I usually go to bed at ten. I'm just not tired."

  
She took sympathy on him and relented. "I heard you arguing with Mr. Kaiba earlier," she said. She gave him one of her looks. "Is that why you're having trouble sleeping?"

"I"m not having trouble sleeping," he corrected waspishly. "I'm just not tired."

"Hmph."

Mokuba waited for a minute, then said softly, "We got into a fight."

She put a plate away and shook her head. "You know, he's just concerned about you, sweetie."

"He's annoying," Mokuba said hotly. At her shocked look, he added, "When he was my age, he wasn't even in school. When he was ten he was skipping _half _his classes. He told me so himself!"

"Did he?" she asked, putting away a glass. "When did he tell you that?"

"When he was doing it," Mokuba said promptly.

"Really? So he came right home and told you, did he?"

It didn't sound like she believed him. "Yes," Mokuba said. "He came right home and told me."

"Huh." She shrugged, closing a cabinet. "Well then. If he was skipping school when he was ten to play video games or goof off with his friends, then he can't lecture you, can he?"

Mokuba started to agree . . . and paused. Seto hadn't been skipping school to play video games or goof off with his friends; often, he'd been taking private 'lessons' from their foster father. And the other times . . . .

He'd never asked, but he distinctly remembered Seto coming home from school and playing with him -- Duel Monsters usually, or they would just sit and talk. Sometimes the servants even slipped them food and hand held games.

Mrs. Kamazaki closed the last of the cabinets and leaned against the counter, watching him with sympathetic eyes. "Can he, Mokuba?"

Mokuba looked down at his feet. "No," he said.

There was a long pause.

"I wasn't doing anything wrong," Mokuba said defiantly. "It's not like I need to be in class all the time, I'm smart enough to figure it out."

"But he never said you did anything wrong, or that you needed to be, did he?"

"He practically did," Mokuba said. "He all but did."

Mrs. Kamazaki shook her head. "Mr. Kaiba would never say something like that," she said gently. "He loves you like you were his son, not his brother."

Coldly, Mokuba said, "What do you know? Psychologists have proven that siblings aren't as good as real parents."

She was disappointed him. "I know what I've seen," she said. "That's enough. If you were looking, you'd see it too."

~

__

Riiiiiiiing.

Seto propped his feet on the desk, glowered at the closed door of the study. Inwardly, he was daring one of the servants to intrude.

__

Riiiiiiiing.

Where the hell was Joey, anyway? Or his roommate? Between the two of them -- well, the three of them, if you counted the pharaoh -- _someone_ ought to answer the damn phone. Of course, it was expecting a bit much to assume that the do-gooder Yugi or the puppy knew how to operate the thing.

__

Riiiiiiiing.

Seto seriously considered calling back later.

The ringing stopped abruptly and there was a frantic, " 'yello?"

"Joey?"

"Actually, no, it's Yugi." Funny, how long-distance phone calls transmitted such bad sound but such good sarcasm. "I've begun talkin' like Joey. Can't you tell?"

"Yes," Seto said wearily. "You are Joey."

"Hey, what's wrong with you? You sound like someone ran over your, ah, dog." Embarrassed silence. "Pun not intended."

Seto snorted and pushed his hair off his forehead. "Very nice. There's hope for you yet, Wheeler."

"Seriously, what's buggin' ya?"

"Nothing," Seto lied automatically.

"Mokuba, huh?"

  
Seto leaned back in his chair. "For the purposes of scientific knowledge," he said, "how _do_ you do that, precisely?"

"What d'we have here, one duelist askin' another for tips? Isn't that cheatin'?"

"Funny."

"Did he miss curfew again?"

Seto blinked at the ceiling. His eyes were gritty and dry with tiredness. "Joey, he's grounded. He can't miss curfew. He has no curfew. He's not allowed out."

"He's still grounded?"

"I told you that he's grounded for two months!"

"I thought you'd've let up by now. You've never grounded 'im this long."

"Of course I have." Seto rubbed his eyes. Joey sounded obnoxiously perky and awake. There _was _a time difference. Little bastard. "There was that one time he was grounded for a week . . ."

"Yeah, but you let up in two days. C'mon, Seto, what's really goin' on here?"

Gritting his teeth, Seto told him.

A moment later:

"The text said _what?"_

"You heard me." Seto left his chair, sat on the ledge of the full-length window. The cold air outside helped wake him up.

Joey sounded furious. "What little bastard wrote _that?_ If I ever get ahold of 'im . . . I'll pound the livin' _daylights_ out of 'im!"

Seto smirked to himself. Joey was so reliable.

"Christ, writin' a thing like that to Mokuba! Little --" he growled.

"You know," Seto said fairly, "Mokuba _is_ fifteen. I'm sure that's . . . normal."

Joey souded horrified. "What!"

"What were _you_ like at fifteen?"

This bought a moment's deep introspection from the puppy. Finally, he said, "Uh, good point. So . . . still, though. I'm not gonna let some little punk . . . take advantage of Mokuba like that. _You _know."

So they were both thinking the same thing: the famous Kaiba charm -- basically, money -- had outdone itself again.

"Well, he is grounded for two months," Seto said. He leaned against the window frame with a sigh. His entire body ached with tiredness and tension-strain. It had been . . . how long since someone touched him, helped relieve his stress? Since Joey left after the Christmas holidays. "That should take care of things for a while."

"I don't know about that," Joey warned. "He'll start cuttin' class next, to be with . . . whoever it is."

  
Seto gritted his teeth again. Cutting class. "That reminds me . . ."

Once he finished relating the phone call he'd recieved from Mokuba's teacher, Joey asked, "You think that's what he was doin'? Skippin' calculus to be with this kid?"

"It looks like it."

"Man." Joey sighed. "At least with Serenity I could let Mom take care of it. All I had to do was beat up anyone who looked too long or treated her bad."

__

Like Taylor? That explains why they're not talking. At least he didn't have to worry about Joey hearing about the attack through Tristan. He still hadn't told anyone about Soichiro -- his biggest worry was that Taylor would run his mouth.

"Beating people up isn't an option for me," Seto said wryly. He let his eyes close as he leaned against the frame. Even his _hands_ ached.

"Nah. Well, you could afford the lawsuit. But you know enough martial arts that it'd be overkill." Joey sighed again. "Seto, there's nothin' you can do. Mokuba's growin' up, you know? That's normal."

Seto's stomach roiled with the thought. "I don't like it."

"Nah." Joey's voice was affectionate. "That's 'cause you're old enough to know what happens next. But for Mokuba, it's still fun." Seto said nothing. "C'mon, Seto. Lighten up on the kid."

"I'm not ungrounding him if that's what he'll run around doing," Seto said coldly. He was treated to a frustrated silence. "Joey, I can't. D'you --" He stopped himself. "I'm tired. I need to go."

"Hey." Joey sounded surprised and hurt. "I know what he means to you." He was probably one of the few people in the world who did. "And he loves you just as much, ya know?" Joey sounded thoughtful. "He thinks you're the best person in the world. He trusts you to look after him, that's why he's never afraid. D'you know?"

"Not really," Seto said honestly. He didn't know anything at all, not this late. Just that he missed Joey, and that he was worried; about Mokuba growing up, about Mokuba being in danger, about getting a call from a hospital one day. He could imagine it so well: a saddened nurse saying there had been an accident, that an unidentified attacker saw Mokuba out by himself and . . . .

He heard Joey's rueful grin. "D'you know I love you?"

Joey didn't hang up right away, but Seto had been training himself for months in preparation. So he said, "I love you," back, too quickly.

He heard Joey's soft laugh, pleased and cocky.

Embarrassed, Seto added, "Chihuahua."

"Hey!" Another laugh, this one bolder, but still gentle. Seto allowed himself a smirk. Yeah, it was funny. Joey was going to pay for it, though. "Sleep tight, Seto. Term ends tomorrow."

Seto hung up reluctantly, and looked at the phone in his hands. He touched the bandages wrapped around his middle -- expensive Accelerated Healing techniques meant they'd be off in the morning, although he'd be sore. Joey would never know that he'd been injured.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing. In his heart, he really wanted Joey to know.

__

Tomorrow, he reminded himself. _You'll see him tomorrow._

Things would be better then.


	10. Chapter Ten

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

****

Author's Note: It's been a long time since I updated, for which I don't really have an excuse, as this fic is already done and sitting on my computer. So here are four chapters all at once, and I'll probably put the last two chapters and the epilogue up some time soon. Sorry about that, guys.

**Want more notes? See Chapter One**

***

Quiet.

Breakfast was a quiet meal when you refused to talk to the person eating it with you.

Very quiet.

Mrs. Kamazaki tried, but neither of the Kaiba's were particularly enthusiastic. So she scooped out their food and gave them disappointed looks before disappearing into the kitchen.

Mokuba couldn't help but notice that he was eating almost three times as much as Seto, who ate barely an entire plateful. Had he always done that? And he looked tired, pale. Was something going on at work? Or was this a guilt trip? Seto was too clever when it came to things like this.

When Seto finally looked up from his plate, Mokuba was at turns worried and frustrated. His brother's face was so wan and so perfectly devoid of emotion that Mokuba's irritation won out -- he grabbed his book bag off the counter and left without a word.

When Mrs. Kamazaki came out of the kitchen, Seto's elbows were on the table and his head rested in his hands. Weariness slumped his proud shoulders.

She removed Mokuba's plate, sending up a faint clatter. He lifted his head and straightened instantly. "Thank you," he said briskly, formal as always. "That will be all. Take a day off."

Mrs. Kamazaki might offer counseling to Mokuba, and might bully Seto into eating on his good days, but even she knew better than to push him.

"Yes, sir."

He left without looking at her once, like she was a prop, a thing. She respected him, of course -- but she could understand how some people hated him. Always so rigid, so cold. A hair away from fierce.

~

"I'm not sure that it's wise, sir . . ."

Seto gave the officer his coldest, most imposing look. "Are you questioning me?" he demanded. The woman wavered. "I didn't think so. Now get out of my way."

She hurried to obey.

Seto shoved open the door and strode into the small interrogation room, fixing it's lone occupant with a glare. The man -- Taichi Soichiro -- lifted his head and caught sight of Seto. He snarled, leapt to his feet --

-- and was yanked back down by his cuffs, fastened securely to the table.

Seto smirked and pulled out a chair, sitting in it with his legs crossed. "Having a nice time?"

Soichiro glared at him under his eyebrows and muttered. Seto made it a staring contest and listened intently; he wouldn't admit it, of course, but he found the man's muttering disturbing. Not because of the threats on his life, which he was used to, or the comments about his character or corporation. It was that occasionally Soichiro would grunt a curse about Mokuba. He was worried that not only did his enemies know who his brother was, they knew Mokuba well enough to taunt Seto over him.

When Seto had heard enough, he leaned back in his chair. "I asked you a question, prisoner," he said.

Soichiro snarled again, like a rabid dog.

"So you're not intelligent enough to speak?" Seto asked coldly. He leaned back in his chair, staring idly at the ceiling. "That's going to make this difficult."

Soichiro's muttering grew slightly louder.

"I heard you the first time," Seto snapped irritably. "Now shut up and answer my questions! Who are you?"

Soichiro fidgeted in his chair and kept mumbling.

"Where do you come from? Why did you attack me?" Seto leaned forward. "Who are you working for?"

Soichiro fell silent for a moment, staring at him almost blankly. And then he let out a low growl and said, "Fuck you."

"Yes, you'd like that," Seto said silkily. "But that's not what I asked you, is it? Who hired you?"

"Kill you," Soichiro grunted. "Fucking KILL YOU!" He exploded, yanking at his bonds, snarling.

Seto recoiled, in spite of himself. He expected Soichiro to gloat, but he just returned to his fidgeting, his muttering.

Half an hour later, the female officer jumped back as the door slammed open and Seto strode out.

He whirled on her. "If he says anything," he said, "_anything_ at all, you contact me immediately. Understood?"

Her hand was on her gun, probably an instinctive reaction to her obvious terror. She nodded.

Seto left the police station in a fury. How the hell had such a wacko gotten past his security and shot him?

It wasn't possible. He was faking it -- or someone had been controlling him. Seto had voiced the idea to the private investigator he had on the case and was assured that brainwashing was never so effective. But Seto was thinking of a different kind of control; par with the sort that Ryou's yami used to have over him.

But who? As much as Seto disliked the thought of someone trying to take over his corporation, he liked the thought of a magic-user even less --

"Mr. Kaiba!"

Someone gripped his arm and yanked him to the side, hard enough to nearly give him whiplash. He didn't even have time to swear before he was shoved into a brick wall, hard.

He managed to gasp in a breath. "What the hell are you --"

Gunshots rang out in the street. Seto's bodyguard -- one of them, at least -- released his arm and looked a bit sheepish. "Sorry, sir."

Seto ignored the apology and peeked out of the alley he'd been so rudely crammed in. Two more of his bodyguards had already tackled a man and knocked his weapon aside. Nodding his approval, Seto left his cover further. Someone was shouting. Were they hurt?

"Sir, there might be more!"

The bodyguard was ignored. Seto finally found the source of all the shouting -- a black-haired boy, about twelve. He was kneeling beside a young woman. "Ami! Ami! Wake up, wake up, wake up . . ." His voice dissolved into something approaching a whimper.

Seto crouched by the boy's side. "What happened?" he demanded. He took the girl's shoulders and laid her carefully on her back.

"The-the guy -- he shot her, it went right through her belly and into the car, she's bleeding really bad --"

"All right," Seto said. "Calm down." He looked briefly over his shoulder at his bodyguards. "One of you, call an ambulance!" A crowd was beginning to gather. "And get the sight-seers out of here," he added, glaring at them for good measure.

"Wh-wh-what should I do?" The boy was beginning to cry, shaking all over as he held onto his sister's hand.

"Nothing right now," Seto said calmly. He moved the girl's shirt aside and tried to ignore how the boy gasped -- the hole in her stomach was gushing. Seto yanked off his coat and wrapped it around her carefully.

"Is she gonna be all right?" the boy asked. His fit of weeping had passed abruptly, replaced with an eerie calm.

__

He's in shock. "Probably," Seto said honestly. "Sit down and try to breathe."

Without argument, the boy obeyed. Seto looked at him a moment and then felt for the girl's pulse.

"What's your name?" Seto asked finally.

"Akira," the boy mumbled. "Takamoto."

"How old is she?" Seto asked, just to keep him talking.

"Eighteen," Akira said. "Six years older than me."

The ambulance arrived soon after that.

Seto stepped aside, watched as the girl was lifted onto a stretcher and her brother was escorted off. Someone gave him a cursory work of thanks, which he brushed off. His hands were caked with blood -- that was all the thanks he deserved.

He went to his car quickly, wiping his hands on his pants. One of his guards opened the door for him.

Seto paused and looked at the man intently. It was the one who'd pushed him into the alley and, oddly enough, the one he'd frightened during his surprise security inspection.

"Ami Takamoto," Seto said finally. "Go to the hospital. Make sure that all of her medical bills are paid. I'll be checking to be make sure you've done it."

The guard wavered, but stepped back. "Yes, sir."

Seto got in the car and slumped into the seat as it began to move. He glanced down at his hands, sticky and brown.

It was the least he could do, and not even necessary. His insurance would take care of it. But . . .

__

Stop it, he ordered himself firmly. _Akira doesn't look like Mokuba. He doesn't._

It didn't help much. When he got home, he doubled the number of guards and rigged the security cameras so they would transmit to his laptop.


	11. Chapter Eleven

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**Want more notes? See Chapter One**

***

Mokuba and Daisuke rifled through Mokuba's deck, their desks pressed together. The teacher eyed them, but they'd already turned in their assignment.

Daisuke grabbed Mokuba's elbow. "Naw, a Blue Eyes?"

"Yeah, Seto gave it to me."

Daisuke stared at him. "He gave you a Blue Eyes?" he asked. "Just - just gave it to you."

Mokuba shrugged. "He doesn't duel much anymore," he said. "He wasn't using it."

"Still!"

"It's not that big a deal," Mokuba said defensively. "He's an idiot. I can't stand him."

Daisuke looked startled. "I thought you guys were really close," he said uncertainly. "I mean . . ."

"No." Daisuke was clearly relieved; Mokuba wondered why Seto made him so nervous. "I used to worship him, but he's . . . impossible now."

"Probably arrogant," Daisuke said sympathetically. "All that money."

Mokuba snorted. "You're telling me," he said.

Daisuke shook his head ruefully, staring at the Blue Eyes with awe for a moment longer, before moving on. Mokuba relished the way they agreed with each other, the warmth of Daisuke's hand on Mokuba's arm. He didn't move away for the rest of the class.

~

When Mokuba darted past, Seto was in his study. A moment later, he appeared in the doorway to his bedroom.

"You're late," he said.

"Don't start on me," Mokuba mumbled. He glanced over his shoulder as he flopped stomach first on the bed -- Seto was filling the door, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes frosty chips of blue.

Mokuba peeped out the window and resisted the urge to squirm against his bedspread. Beneath his untucked shirt and halfway un-buttoned jeans, he was painfully aroused. Did Daisuke _have_ to make-out with him for twenty minutes before dropping him off at home? The little demon.

Seto left without saying another word. Mokuba was too distracted to wonder about his easy victory, concentrating instead on when Seto was back in his study. He shut the door as soon it was safe, grabbed some clothes and darted into the bathroom. A shower should help. A cold one.

His spare cell phone (hidden beneath the cabinet) already had a texmessage on it. Mokuba read it and changed his mind -- maybe a warm shower would be better. A nice, _long_, warm shower . . .

~

**__**

"I think I just won."

"I think you did, too."

Tristan and Ryou stared at the computer screen with equal expressions of pure confusion. Mai entered the room, rolled her eyes extravagantly, and went back out.

"I thought you said you reeked at this game!" Tristan finally said.

Ryou scratched his head, pushing his hair from his eyes. "I _do_ reek at this game," he said. "I must've gotten lucky."

Tristan looked dispirited. "I'm just bad at everything."

Ryou patted him on the shoulder, tilting his head so he could peer into Tristan's face. "You're not bad at everything," he reassured. "Perhaps the little aliens are cheating."

Tristan gave him a very sardonic look. Mai picked that moment to re-enter the room and found them about a foot apart from each other, gazing into each other's eyes, with Ryou's hand on Tristan's back. She cleared her throat, and torment might have followed, but her cell phone rang.

Tristan and Ryou eavesdropped blatantly. By the time she hung up, Ryou was restarting the game for another round and Tristan was frowning at her. "Was that Kaiba?"

"Yeah." Mai winced as squeaky alien voices blared from the speakers. Glaring daggers, she scanned the room and asked loudly, "Have either of you seen my blue shirt?"

Tristan shrugged. Ryou asked, "The tiny strappy silk one that I didn't much like?"

"Yes," Mai said suspiciously.

"I haven't seen it," Ryou said composedly. "Are you ready, Tristan?"

Tristan was still frowning at Mai. "What did Kaiba want?"

"To take his stress out on me," Mai said snappishly. "What did you do with my shirt, Ryou?"

"Nothing," he said calmly. "Tristan?"

"Everything's all right, isn't it?" Tristan asked Mai. "There hasn't been another attack?"

Silence filled the room. The squeaky aliens finally stopped singing -- the silence was somehow louder than their voices had been.

"No," Mai said at last. "He didn't mention anything. I'm sure it's all fine . . ."

"There was something on the news earlier," Tristan said uneasily. "About some girl . . . Ami something . . . she was injured in an attempted assassination attempt. They didn't say who the attempt was on. I just thought . . . ." He shrugged. Joey loved Seto -- he supposed he was allowed to worry.

Ryou was watching Tristan with large, almost hopeful eyes. When Tristan looked over at him, he beamed. "Ready?"

"Sure." Tristan rubbed his hands together, pushing his thoughts aside. Kaiba could take care of himself -- they deserved a break after everything they'd been through lately. "I'm totally going to win this time."

Mai rolled her eyes again and tossed a throw pillow at Ryou's head. "What did you do with my shirt, you dolt?"

"I didn't do anything," Ryou said, fighting back a smile.

Tristan waited till Mai left and leaned in towards Ryou. "If she finds out I turned it purple . . ."

"Hush," Ryou ordered, smiling. "I'll protect you. And it's your move."


	12. Chapter Twelve

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**Want more notes? See Chapter One**

***

Mokuba elected to eat in the kitchen, stubbornly refusing to give up his campaign of silence against his brother. When he felt guilty, he reminded himself that Joey would be there later tonight, that if Seto felt bad, Joey would help. Joey might even patch things up without a sacrifice of pride from either of them.

Mrs. Kamazaki needled him with her gaze but fed him up. She vanished mysteriously just before Mokuba finished -- if he'd had enough time, he would have wondered why.

The kitchen door swung open and Seto entered. He tossed his plate into the sink with enough force that it cracked.

Mokuba nearly fell off his seat on the counter. He stared at Seto with wide eyes.

"Tomorrow, one of the bodyguards will pick you up," Seto said. He didn't even look at Mokuba as he started for the door.

"What? Why? Because I was twenty minutes _late?_"

"You know why." Seto gave him a dark look. "He'll also drive you there and check in with your teachers -- if you decide to skip any classes, I'll know."

Mokuba almost slid off the counter in his rage, but it wasn't a good idea to maximize the height difference between them. "That's insane."

"Think whatever you want."

"That's right, just obey." Mokuba spat the words, throwing his own plate into the sink so that it broke. "Whatever you say, _big brother_."

Seto stiffened, his back to Mokuba. "I did warn you," he pointed out. "If you could just be on time --"

"I thought it didn't have anything to do with that!"

Seto looked back at him. "Do you want to get into a discussion about _that?"_

"Why not?" Mokuba's always been more outspoken then Seto; he used it shamelessly to his own advantage now. "Why not talk about the fact that I was with Daisuke? Why the hell do you care?"

Seto looked like he was striving to hold onto his last threads of patience and failing. "You're my brother and my responsibility."

"That's right. Just your job. Well, I'll tell you what." Mokuba brushed past him. "A brother's not good enough, it never has been. You might as well give up trying to be my father, and I'm tired of you acting like --"

"Like what?" Mokuba was halfway to the stairs, but the frozen note in Seto's voice stopped him cold. That was the voice he used to use on Yugi, the one that said _make one wrong move and you're dead._

Mokuba turned a contemptuous look on him. "Like you're an all-knowing _god_."

"One of us is acting like an all-knowing god," Seto said, still dangerously. "It's not me."

"Like a hypocrite, then," Mokuba said spitefully. "As if you'll just be holding hands with Joey when he gets here tonight."

"Would you rather he didn't, then?"

It was the wrong thing to say. He didn't want to think of Seto willingly turning Joey away just to make him happy. Because he knew that Seto would do it in a heartbeat.

"No," Mokuba said. He felt incredibly cold inside. "At least he's normal. And it'll be a break from _you._"

Seto actually looked stung, which might have been a first. Mokuba stormed up the stairs without looking back.

~

"Come to my house," Daisuke said when he called. He could probably tell that Mokuba was on the verge of angry tears. "Just for a little while."

Mokuba readily agreed.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**Want more notes? See Chapter One**

***

Seto steadily refused to step foot on the third floor, where his room, Mokuba's room, and his study lied.

He wasn't afraid of his brother, or really very angry with him. Something in his chest just felt cracked, slightly broken. He almost called a bodyguard and ordered him to accompany Mokuba before thinking better of it; maybe he could just show Mokuba he was sorry instead of trying to say it. He wasn't good at talking.

It was going on eleven when he heard the front door open. He was on his feet before he remembered that he'd given Joey the pass codes.

The door to the main sitting room swung open, bounced off the wall. Joey dropped his book bag on the floor, eyes dark and wide and unutterably perfect. "Seto."

Seto kissed him before he knew that he was moving, fingers tangling up in Joey's hair, nudging him back into the wall. Strong arms went around his waist and squeezed tightly -- Seto pressed his hands against Joey's shoulders, his neck, his face, just feeling him and breathing him in.

The kiss ended. Joey hurried on to his jaw, his neck. Seto groaned as Joey nipped his throat and let out a growl. "What are you, a terrier?"

Joey's hands slid to his hips, pushing the two of them together. He reluctantly let Seto's neck alone, gasping for air. His eyes were huge and dilated, his hair clinging to his forehead with sweat. "God, I missed you."

Seto pushed Joey's hair from his face and kissed his lips, his nose.

"Missed _this_." Joey shoved the coat off Seto's shoulders, left his arms hopelessly tangled. He tugged his collar away and licked a stripe down his neck. When Seto groaned, he did it again, yanking his shirt open to reach lower. "The way you _taste_."

Seto hummed helplessly, his body finding a mind of it's own and rocking helplessly into Joey's.

"Been worried about you," Joey panted. "Really worried." He slid slightly down the wall, pressing his knee between Seto's legs. "Non-stop worried." Seto found the pulse in his throat and sucked, hard. Joey grabbed a handful of his coat and yanked him closer, their chests pressed together as he panted. "So -- good --"

Seto pulled back slightly and licked the injured flesh. He managed to free his arms and yank Joey's baggy, worn shirt off of him. "You need new clothes," he said breathlessly. He tossed the shirt aside and ran his hands over Joey's back. His fingers slipped in the sweat he found there.

"Gonna make me a yuppie?"

"No amount of clothing could --" Seto paused to bend his neck and kiss Joey's chest, tongue worshipping the humid skin. "-- could accomplish that."

Joey shivered delightfully and pulled Seto's shirt off, threw it away.

"Besides," Seto continued, falling to his knees and kissing the lightly muscled stomach. "I want your clothes _off_ right _now._"

Joey's fingers combed through Seto's hair, trailed down to rub the nape of his neck. Seto looked up as his kisses neared the belt holding up Joey's baggy pants -- and then he paused, sighing with a combination of pain and intense relief as Joey kneaded the tense muscles of his shoulders.

A moment latter, Joey tugged him to his feet, urgency tightly restrained in his eyes. "Your room," he said. His breath was wonderfully uneven as he kissed the tender spot beneath Seto's ear. "I wanna to go slow. I've missed you."

Seto kissed him as slowly as he could bear, his pulse a deafening roar in his skull. Joey's hands were restless, running over his back, his waist, tugging his thighs apart. Seto ground against Joey's hip, moaning when Joey's hand slipped between them. He pulled away and caught a mischievous grin.

"Evil pup," he murmured. He touched their foreheads together. "I love you."

He felt Joey's eyelashes brush his cheek as he blinked, surprised, and then he felt his slow, cocky smile. He opened his eyes to see it -- he'd missed that too, he found.

"D'you know what?" Joey started to lead him up the stairs. "I think I knew that."

"Dog."

"Keep it up and I won't show you how _much _I knew it."

Seto fell silent.

~

Mokuba pressed his face to the screen, peering into Daisuke's bedroom. His boyfriend was sitting at his desk, surfing the 'Net with an expression of utmost boredom.

"Hey, Daisuke."

He jumped, spun around in his chair. "Mokuba!" He ran to the window and pushed out the screen. "C'mon -- someone's gonna see you --"

Mokuba grabbed his jaw and kissed him, giggling as Daisuke moaned a little. Embarrassed, Daisuke pulled away. "What's funny?"

"You." Mokuba tugged him back and kissed him again. "You sound good."

He liked the way that Daisuke rubbed circles into his back, a little unsure, very warm. Daisuke finally pulled away and looked skittishly at the shrubbery. "If my neighbors see you they'll call the cops."

Mokuba clambered over the windowsill and sat beneath it, legs stuck out carelessly in front of him. "This better?"

"Much." Daisuke sat carefully on his thighs. "Is this, um, okay?"

Mokuba shrugged carelessly, suddenly intently focused on the buckles of Daisuke's jacket. "Yes."

Daisuke watched him. "D'you wanna talk?"

"No." Mokuba leaned forward and kissed him. "I want to, um, you know."

Daisuke's eyes widened but he nodded eagerly, quite cutely so, in Mokuba's opinion. There was a moment more of kissing, and then Mokuba was tugged to his feet and towards the bed. "You're sure."

"Totally sure." It would piss Seto off, that was certain, and at the moment, that was all he really cared about.

They sat on the bed. Daisuke kissed him again, and then gently pushed him back -- lying in a tangle of clothes and skin, Mokuba felt the first flash of doubt.

He pushed it down and kissed Daisuke again.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**Want more notes? See Chapter One.**

***

Joey was stretched out lazily, lean body covered by blankets. His eyes were closed, but opened occasionally to check on Seto, as if to make sure he was still there and all right. If he noticed that Seto watched him intently, he didn't mind.

Seto brushed his fingers against Joey's chin. Joey ducked his head to kiss them and asked, voice muffled, "Wha' happened?"

"You weren't paying attention? Sorry, pup --"

Joey flung an arm over his hips and gave him a pinch. "Y'know what I mean."

Seto let himself be tugged close and said, "Mokuba and I fought again."

"Over what?"

Seto had to think to remember; the events were vague, blurred, especially after everything he'd just done with Joey. Slightly embarrassed, he said, "He was late getting home from school."

Joey opened his eyes and looked at him appraisingly. "How late?"

Seto shrugged stiffly. "Does it matter?"

"Thirty minutes?" Joey guessed.

"Twenty."

Joey rolled his eyes, grinning. "Kaiba, you _are_ a mother hen. Quick, alert the press."

"It's not funny." Seto rolled onto his stomach and propped himself on his elbows. Joey stayed on his side, watching Seto's face. "Something could have happened to him."

"Like what, twenty minutes of make-out time?"

"For the twenty minutes that he was unaccounted for," Seto said coldly, "I had no idea where he was."

Joey ran his hand through Seto's hair. It was a soothing motion, one Seto despised. He wanted to stay angry. "There's no danger," Joey said quietly, comfortingly. "Not anymore. You don' have any reason to be worried."

Seto sighed. He supposed it had been unfair to keep things from Joey at all, even if it was to stop him from worrying.

"There is danger," Seto said softly. Joey started to reassure him that wasn't the case and then paused, catching the look on his face. "Someone's been trying to take over my corporation," Seto murmured. Joey stiffened. "By force, and using people with old grudges against me. There have been three attacks on research posts in Egypt, and two . . ." he sighed. "Two here."

Joey's hand came to rest on his shoulder, pressing too much to be relaxed. "Attacks on you."

"Yes."

Joey sat up, drawing away from him. "Were ya _ever_ gonna tell me? Or were you just hopin' I'd figure it out magically?"

Seto managed not to laugh with cynical amusement. "I didn't want you to worry," he said.

"No, you're just _stubborn_." The bed shifted as Joey turned to look at him. "Did ya even tell Mokuba?"

"No."

"Dammit, Seto! Tell him -- he'd understand a bit more if you just --"

"Don't tell me what he'd understand!" Suddenly furious, Seto pushed himself upright, glaring intently in Joey's face. "I'm not under any obligation to tell him things --"

"Bullshit you aren't," Joey fired back, right in his face, not even slightly intimidated. "He needs to know if he's in danger. He needs to know if _you're_ in danger."

"-- and I shouldn't have to! He should understand that he has a responsibility --" this earned him an eye roll and a snort "-- that he needs to keep himself safe either way! Even if there is no threat!"

Joey shook his head, dark eyes narrowed contemptuously. "You're impossible," he said. "Just impossible."

Four years ago, Seto would have hit him. Now, he pushed Joey violently into the blankets and stared down at him, a little childish and bitterly angry.

Joey's chest rose and fell with his breath. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Why didn't ya really tell me?"

Seto looked at the wall, the window, anywhere but at Joey. "I wanted you to figure it out."

"Why?"

He was tired of always being responsible and in charge. "I don't know."

Joey sat up suddenly and hugged him, pulling him close beneath the blankets. Seto sighed and leaned into him, weak all over. Joey kissed his hair, nuzzled his neck.

"'m not that smart, Kaiba," he muttered. "You've got to tell me these things."

Seto said nothing.

Joey kissed his ear, his cheek. "I don't wanna fight," he said quietly. "Not with you."

Seto pushed him gently into the blankets and kissed him slowly, before settling down with chin on Joey's shoulder. Joey sighed happily and they laid like that for a long time. Seto felt really and truly calm, for the first time in days. Damn, it was good.

When he finally sat up, Joey was fast asleep, mouth open slightly. Seto smirked and nudged it shut for him, creeping out of bed and finding clean clothes.

He needed to check on Mokuba . . . maybe even talk to him if he was still awake . . .

~

Daisuke was sleeping. Mokuba was not.

He was lying on his side and staring at the wall. Their fooling around had always left him loose and sleepy. He'd assumed that sex would, too.

But he'd been wrong. He was wound tighter than a spring -- and deep down inside, he knew that part of it was guilt.

He carefully slipped out of bed, found his clothes. His shirt had gotten a bit ripped, he noted, and his underwear was . . . really gross. His hands kept shaking.

He didn't want to look at Daisuke. Every time his thighs ached, his bowels twinged, he felt a rush of hatred. He was afraid that he might attack him or something, no matter how peaceful he looked.

He left without waking Daisuke. And at the moment, he didn't care if he was going to be worried. In fact, he was hoping he would be.

It only took him about an hour to reach the mansion. Before he was even halfway there he knew something was wrong -- helicopters. Far too many. And police cars.

There were quite a lot of them around the mansion when he slipped in through the garden. Fed up with trying to avoid the damn things, he snuck closer. Had there been some kind of warning or alert?

Paranoia lanced him. Or an attack?

He eavesdropped easily on a conversation between an officer and his superior via radio. "Any sign of the missing Kaiba?"

"No, sir." The officer scanned the area like he expected Mokuba to materialize.

"Keep an eye out."

"Yes, sir."

The officer clicked off his radio as Mokuba slunk away.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**Want more notes? See Chapter One.**

***

He entered through a hidden door, one that only he, his brother, and Joey knew about. It led to a deserted basement, used mostly for storage of Seto's old computer equipment. He was careful not to touch it -- even discarded and unused, the stuff was riddled with alarms. He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the elevator.

Seto knew he was missing. Those police were searching for him . . . a wave of guilt swamped him. What kind of a brother was he, running off and worrying Seto sick? When it was the first time that Seto saw Joey in almost a year?

He felt hollow, gutted. He _hurt_. He hadn't imagined that it would be like this -- when he left a few hours ago, he was on fire with anger and self-righteous indignation. But now he felt distinctly let down, and stupid, and utterly worthless.

It was too much. Mokuba bowed his head and leaned against the wall, mouth fighting to turn into a grimace of tears. He had to blink hard to hold it back. What was he going to do?

__

Talk to Seto, something in him suggested. Even if Seto was furious with him.

The elevator door opened.

~

He found Seto in his office. His brother was standing at the window, facing away from the door, looking down at the fleet of police cruisers with unnerving blankness. Something moved on the couch across the room -- Joey.

He was looking at Mokuba. "Seto," he said urgently, standing.

Seto turned his face to look at Joey, and then the door. Mokuba reached up to grasp the frame. He tried to muster a smile, but failed, so he just said, "Hi," rather lamely.

Seto looked frozen. He didn't move.

"Where have you been?" Joey asked.

"I." Mokuba took a deep breath. "With my friend," he said. Seto's eyes flickered. "I --"

Joey stepped between them, gripping Mokuba's shoulders. When he worked up the courage to meet Joey's eyes, Mokuba found them warm and concerned. "Kid, ya had us worried."

"Sorry," Mokuba said miserably. "I'm really sorry."

Joey patted him on the shoulder. He looked back at Seto -- "You all right, Seto?"

"I'm fine." Mokuba winced at the harsh, hoarse tone of his brother's voice.

Joey left quietly.

Seto crossed the room slowly, to his desk rather than Mokuba. He dialed his cell phone and spoke into it for a moment, not looking at his brother even briefly. Finally, he hung up.

"I'm sorry," Mokuba said quickly.

"Do you think," Seto asked slowly, "that this is just -- just another thing that you can apologize for and get out of?"

Mokuba winced, his eyes burning. "Sorry," he whispered.

"I had no idea where you were," Seto said flatly. "You could have been dead."

"Sorry," Mokuba whispered again.

"Stop apologizing," Seto ordered. He came to Mokuba's side and towered over him. "Look up."

Mokuba stared at his brother's shoes. "I'm sorry," he murmured. Seto shifted slightly, but listened. "I'm sorry." Tears started slipping down his face. He felt altogether wretched -- after everything with Daisuke that should have been right and was just wrong, and then finding Joey so worried, and Seto so hurt and tense and angry, and just -- "I'm _sorry."_

It came out as a sob. Mokuba sat, weeping quietly into his palms. He couldn't bear to look up and see Seto's expression of impatience -- when Seto sighed and knelt, he tensed, tears catching in his chest.

Warm hands rested on his shoulders. "Never do that again," Seto said quietly.

"No," Mokuba agreed, uncertain as to what Seto meant, whether it was the running away or the lying or the tears. He had never felt so horrible. "I promise." He started to cry again.

Seto pulled him into a hug, one of the few hugs that Mokuba really remembered. He wept into Seto's shoulder for all he was worth.

~

**__**

Mokuba and Joey, with the evil, deliberate calculation that only they got away with, decided that if they couldn't force Seto to stop working, they would annoy him to death while he did it.

So three days after Joey's arrival, Seto found himself struggling to read and sign a contract while Joey surfed parody news sites on Mokuba's laptop (calling out interesting headlines as he spotted them) and while Mokuba struggled to write a history essay.

Joey started chuckling.

"We don't want to hear it," Seto said, giving him his most threatening look.

Joey lounged on the couch and gave him a very sly look. "It's a good one."

"No."

Joey stretched -- Seto stared at the hem of his shirt as it rode up and revealed a strip of tanned belly. He shook himself and went back to work.

Smirking, Joey craned his neck to peer around Seto's desk and Mokuba. "C'mon, Mokuba, help me out here."

Mokuba mumbled, flipped a page in his book. "Working now, thanks."

"You're tellin' me _history's_ more interestin' than --"

"We don't want to know," Seto said forcefully. Stubborn, as always, Joey sat up and prepared to read the entire article out loud.

Seto saved his work and turned to chew Joey out, but his cell rang. Scowling, Joey sat back as Seto answered.

"Hello?" He paused a beat. "Taylor?"

Joey shot to his feet. He stood at Seto's desk in a heartbeat -- Mokuba was at his side a moment later, holding tight to the back of Seto's chair.

"What happened?" Seto finally demanded. He was silent for a moment, and then scowled. "Taylor, all I'm getting is static."

"What?" Joey demanded anxiously. "What? Is he in trouble?"

"And there's a dog yapping in my ear," Seto continued irritably.

Mokuba sent Joey a quelling look and waited patiently. Finally, Seto snapped, "_Taylor!_ I didn't hear a word you just said, dammit. Slow the hell down. What happened to Valentine?"

Joey bowed his head, knotting his fingers in the sleeve of his jacket. Mokuba left Seto's side and stood next to Joey, searching for something comforting to say. He couldn't think of anything, though. They waited.

Finally Seto sighed, giving Joey a look that somehow communicated relief without actually being relieved. "Everyone's fine? Even Ryou?"

Another pause. Joey leaned heavily against the desk, lips turning up happily. Mokuba nudged him and they exchanged grins.

Seto, however, was not smiling. "What d'you mean, you have to go? Who was behind the at --" He stopped and rolled his eyes. "Fine, Taylor. Go look after your boyfriend. But I want a report by tomorrow morning." If Mokuba listened intently, he could hear Tristan complaining. "And make Valentine call me. And Ryou." Another pause. "Stop whining. Wheeler says hi, by the way."

"Tell him he's a giant dork," Joey said, smirking.

Seto passed the insult along and switched off the phone a moment later. He tossed it onto his desk and leaned back into his chair, looking up at Mokuba and Joey.

"Well, that's all taken care of," Mokuba said, relieved. He'd been horrified to learn that someone had been attacking Seto, and that his brother hadn't told him. Even now, Seto wouldn't quite meet his eyes.

"Good," Joey said. He plopped himself down on Seto's desk, earning himself a raised eyebrow, and added, "So, Seto."

Seto leaned further in his chair and looked skyward. Mokuba hastily went back to the window, saying, "I'm not part of this."

Joey smirked. "What're ya gonna do to distract yourself till Tristan calls, Blue Eyes?"

"Do not call me that." Seto was trying not to leer too openly -- even if Mokuba couldn't see his face, he was still in the room. "I'm going to work."

Mokuba closed book and binder with a snap. "I think you've done enough work."

"I agree."

"I've barely done any work between the two of you!" Seto tugged his laptop closer, only to have it pulled away by Joey.

"I've got an idea," he said, and grinned.


	16. Epilogue

****

Rebirth  
by Ceresi

****

Rating: R

****

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. **ALSO.** This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

**Want more notes? See Chapter One.**

***

"I can't believe it's been a whole _year_ since ya played Duel Monsters, Kaiba."

"I've had more important things to do than play games," Seto said dryly. "I suppose you and Yugi get in a game every hour."

Joey snorted. "Nah, he spends all his time duelin' Yami. I just hang around by the phone, waitin' for you to call."

"Yeah, right." Mokuba darted forward, walking on Seto's other side. "Like you could hold still that long."

"I'll have you know I'm a master at holdin' still."

"We all need our accomplishments," Seto murmured. "I guess you'll take what you can get."

Joey threw his head back in a laugh, and Mokuba grinned appreciatively. They reached the end of the hallway, stopped outside of a door with a large keypad. Mokuba punched in the code.

"How did you know about this place, anyway?" Seto asked Joey. "You don't have the code for this level."

"Yeah, what's up with that? Ya don't trust me with your equipment?"

"Hardly," Seto said. "It's too sturdy for you to break -- what else is there to worry about?"

Joey looked mock-sullen. "Very funny."

Mokuba tossed a grin over his shoulder. "He heard about it from Mrs. Kamazaki," he said. When Seto's eyebrows shot up, he added, "She was worried because you hadn't used the equipment in so long. She says it's not healthy to be all work and no play."

"And so the two of you have decided to drag me down here and torment me with your bad dueling?"

"Hey, big brother, I'm not that bad," Mokuba chided. "You taught me, after all."

Seto smirked. "True."

"And I'll beat ya one of these days," Joey drawled, so fondly there was no doubt that he hadn't a hope in the world. Mokuba waited for the door to slide open and ran ahead, flicking on the lights and the computer equipment.

Seto lifted a small holographic projector -- it was bulkier than the newest model, but he'd never been fond of the new version, anyway, developed as it was by underlings and idiots.

Joey leaned against the wall, reached out with one foot to nudge Seto in the shin. "You all right, Seto?"

Seto kicked his shoe away. "Don't mess up my clothes," he ordered.

"Mokuba's doin' better."

Seto lifted his head to inspect his little brother. He was flitting from computer to computer, tweaking the equipment to make it run better. He was a genius when it came to computers, just like him -- perhaps if Seto let Mokuba design the new hologram projectors, he wouldn't constantly find fault with them. Mokuba would get it right.

"He is," Seto agreed. He cleared his throat and set the projector aside. "Thank you for talking to him."

"Didn't say anythin' you wouldn't've." Joey pushed off the wall and followed Seto as he meandered to Mokuba's side. "I'm gonna beat ya, ya know."

"Dream on, puppy."

Mokuba snorted at the pet name and backed away from the keyboard. "It should work," he said. "It's been so long since I messed with this system . . . you know, Seto, if you routed the thirty cluster stuff through the seventh, it'd save a lot of time."

Seto thought about it, nodded. "I'll bring it up in the next meeting."

"Maybe I'll go with you," Mokuba said. "Just to make sure. And because, it'll be interesting." He was watching the monitor and it's readouts with a little too much attention. His ears were red.

"Interesting isn't the right word," Seto said dryly. "But yes, you can come. Are you done with the check ups?"

Mokuba grinned. "All's green," he said, flipping a switch. The screens died as the projectors came to life, rainbows flashing in the air as they calibrated themselves. "At least Mrs. Kamazaki's kept it dust-free down here."

"One bright point," Seto agreed. "Which of you will I beat first?"

"Mokuba," Joey said, as Mokuba said, "Joey." They exchanged glances. "Ya wanna flip for it?"

"You'll rig it!"

"How do ya rig a coin toss?"

"You'd find a way."

"Quickly, if you would," Seto said, amused.

"I ain't goin' first," Joey insisted. "A year's worth of pent-up dueling frustration? Yeah, right. He likes you more than me, you go."

"Sure he does," Mokuba snorted, rolling his eyes. "_You_ go. You'll lose anyway, this way you'll have a good excuse."

Seto smirked and Joey laughed. "You're mean to me, kid."

"Admitting defeat?" Mokuba challenged. A smile was threatening to cross his face -- he liked bickering with Joey as much as Seto did.

"Yes, he is," Seto said. "I'm dueling you, Joey." When Joey looked wildly indignant, Seto smirked. "It won't be too bad. I promise to leave you with _some_ pride."

"Heard that before," Joey mumbled.

"I'm gonna sit over here," Mokuba said, plopping himself down in one of the computer chairs. It was a swively one; he pushed off the wall and went flying across the room. "Whooo!"

Seto leaned close to Joey. "Loser plays slave for an hour," he murmured.

Joey's grin was downright scandalous. His eyes trailed down the length of Seto's black-clad form. "You're on."

"Hey, lovebirds!" Mokuba shouted. He kicked off of another wall and went flying again. "Stop flirting and start dueling!"

Seto rolled his eyes. Joey laughed, brushed a kiss over his lips, and said, "Like the boy says, Kaiba. Let's go."

***

**A/N:** The end! Mostly. There is, of course, the companion fic, the prequal, and the sequal to be written.

I've been really terrible about responding to reviews and updating regularly, mostly because this is the very first long!fic I've ever posted, and I've had it on my computer for so long it's easy to forget about. And then there are the other fics I've been working on, and the website, and a dozen other excuses, none of which ya'll care about. ;)

To Morghann: I'm working on the Egypt story now. Technically, it and Rebirth are two parts of the same fic, which really should be merged. I might do it eventually. I'm glad you liked it, anyway, even if the plot did sort of fall by the wayside.

To all ya'll: Can I just say you all rock? I'd try to find words, but I might cry. I was incredibly flattered everytime that someone said Seto, Mokuba, Joey, Mai, and Tristan were IC, and I'm tremendously glad that you all liked the angst and plot (what little there was). *hugs*

Thanks again! And see you soon!


End file.
